PCOS to Parenthood - Part 1

I guess to begin any story, you’d have to start at the beginning, which for me in the unbelievable journey I’m on started when I was 15 years old.

I was a freshman in high school and incredibly naïve. I had a core group of about 3 friends and all of them would share horror stories of “that time of the month” and help each other in a bind. I would always play it up that I had my own cycles under control, but in reality it was the opposite. I had officially “become a woman” at 13 and my cycles were irregular which, I was told, was to be expected in the beginning and would eventually straighten themselves out. But I was 15, and hadn’t had a cycle in about a year and a half. I was enjoying not having the embarrassing moments my friends had of having to RUN to the bathroom and borrow feminine products from each other, but in the back of my mind, I was worried. I could tell something wasn’t right. There had to be a reason why everyone around me was “functioning” regularly and I wasn’t. Finally there were a few months of cycles and I was relieved at first and hoped that my worries were all for naught. Then, nothing…for 9 months I went cycle-less again. Now I KNEW something was wrong. This wasn’t normal. Finally my mom and I decided it was time to see a doctor. I remember the doctor. She was a middle-aged Hindu woman who we’ll call Dr. M. She was kind and addressed my mother’s concerns with the one thing I dreaded most…a blood test. I hadn’t had one since I was 3 years old and now, at 15, I was scheduled to take 7 (yes, SEVEN) vials of blood for various tests to see what was going on. I remember crying the entire time because I was afraid. I had a tendency to faint while getting blood drawn, so I was in a private room on a gurney, staring out the mini-blind-covered window thinking about the tree outside blowing in the breeze. Oh I would give anything to be that tree rather than getting blood taken from me. I understood the need for 3 or even 4 vials, but SEVEN? I wasn’t happy.
After a few days, I had to go back to see Dr. M for the results and prognosis. Both my mom and I went in there determined to find out why I was having this issue. The doctor, in her thick Hindu accent stated that she had the results from my blood tests – it was something called Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. Well, she might as well have been speaking Japanese for all I knew because I had no clue what it was. She stated that it is simply a hormone deficiency and since it had been found at a relatively early age, the easiest course of treatment she recommended was to put me on birth control pills as a form of hormone therapy, hoping that my pubescent, teenage body would turn itself around. My mother was devastated. It wasn’t because of the diagnosis, but the treatment. She wasn’t keen on the thought of having a 15-year old daughter on birth control pills. Of course I was still a virgin at the time and had taken a vow of abstinence, therefore I had to explain that the birth control wasn’t for its “conventional” purposes, but rather think of it as medicine for a physical condition. She still was uneasy about the thought, but in my heart, I knew the REAL reason as to why I was prescribed this medication and promised not to abuse it for other purposes.

To be continued...